Friday, June 5, 2009

About once a week I sit down, ready to write another post, but I can't think of anything to write! Yesterday, I recounted a dream to my co-workers, and got the idea that I should post my wacky dreams! I totally understand if you don't read them, I think it will just be fun for me to be able to go back and read them.

So here's the dream:

I had a baby boy, but wasn't quite sure how he got here since I didn't remember being pregnant. He had to go away for a few weeks. The weeks past and I was able to see my baby again. The people who cared for my baby during the weeks told, "You are going to have to put your baby to sleep." I was appalled because you can't put babies to sleep! They are so innocent and precious. The people went on to tell me, "Your baby is going to grow up to be a serial killer, so he needs to be put to sleep." I refused to believe the people and took my baby back. As I am looking at my baby, he get the evilest look on his face, opens his mouth crazy-big, and ATTACKS ME! He was trying to kill me. And I agreed, that my baby was evil.Then I woke up.

On another note: I went selling with Jeremiah on Memorial Day(this is sadly not a dream). Quickly I realized that I am not cut out for sales, because I am a push-over, and I wanted it to be over as soon as possible. I walked up to a house with its' garage door open, and with the family inside the garage having a Memorial Day celebration(with beer). Grandpa was sitting in the corner singing country/folk songs. I started pitching to the owner, but he was in a contract, so I started to leave and said to Grandpa, "I will miss your singing! It made my day.""What do you even know about singin, little girl?" sassily says Gramps"Actually, I am music major, so I think I know a little, and I think you are awesome!""Well, I am a professional," lies Grandpa.. he was horrible."I believe it!!" I lie.So after some prodding, he convinces me to sing for him and the others. Usually I would just say no, but I was just buying time so that I didn't have to go knock more houses, so I sang for them. All the while they were cussing under their breaths and grandpa insisted on standing 7 inches from my face and staring right at me.To make a long story short, I made $40 that day. And not from selling phone service.That's right. I am a PAID singer.

About Me

Minus my early-high-school-emo xanga stint, this is my first blog. So bear with me. Warnings: I tend to gravitate towards the dramatic, love to overanalyze the mundane, and can be detrimentally sarcastic (although I recently have been told that I am in fact sardonic, not sarcastic. who knew?). I give you full permission to roll your eyes and groan at my dramaticness, make fun or skip over the mundane, and be completely offended by my sarcasm.